


The Journey

by crone_zone



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greek Religion & Lore Fusion, Alternate Universe - Trojan War Setting (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Bad First Impressions, Barely more graphic than Bambi I swear, Cameo appearances by other Haikyuu characters as animals, Emphasis on loosely, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Getting to Know Each Other, Inarizaki, Inarizaki as foxes, Just some hunting and Trojan war references folks nothing spooky, Lonely Sakusa, Loosely Based on The Odyssey, M/M, Minor Mentions of Death, Minor Violence, Miya Atsumu is a Little Shit, Slow Burn, don't come after me classical studies nerds, just think of it as a fantasy island ancient history AU, minor mentions of blood, no beta we die like men, one-sided atsukita
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25212196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crone_zone/pseuds/crone_zone
Summary: Sakusa, a demigod banished by the gods to a small remote island, has lived alone with the animals and plants for hundreds of years. Atsumu has just lost the great war and is trying to return home with his captain and crew. When a storm forces their ship onto Sakusa's island, an initial disagreement has Sakusa turning the whole crew into foxes. What will happen now that Sakusa is stuck with them?In which Sakusa is loosely based off of Circe in the Odyssey and the Inarizaki crew is loosely based off of Odysseus’ crew. It is NOT necessary to know Greek myth intimately to be able to read and enjoy this fic :) (Author-san does geek out in the notes tho)
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 72
Kudos: 167
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	1. The Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whether it be the wrath of the gods or the will of nature, a terrible storm is brewing. What will follow in its wake?

Sun baked the back of Sakusa’s neck as he climbed the shaled path upwards through the olive grove, rising over the crowns of the trees slowly to reach the rocky hillside above. Sweat clung to his back and dampened his robes, dripping from the black curls at the back of his head as his climb grew steeper. Finally, he slipped under a rock outcropping with a sigh of relief, kneeling and plunging his hands into the cool creek that burbled out of the rock. He splashed water over his head gratefully, washing the sweat away as best he could and letting the water soak through the front of his robe, then drank deeply from his cupped palms. Collapsing back against the cool rock with a huff as his canteen filled, he lifted his eyes towards the horizon.

It was hot. Unseasonably hot. A gentle spring had burst upon the island, pulling the world around him into life in technicolour, and he’d watched the sprouts of his garden wake with joy. And then without warning the air pressure had changed, the breeze had stopped, and this oppressive heat had coiled itself around the island like a giant serpent, stifling and strangling everything within. What worried Sakusa further was on the horizon he could see the haze and darkness of a big summer storm gathering. He sighed and heaved himself to his feet, ducking out from under the outcropping and into the direct glare of the sun yet again. There was nothing for it; he’d have to prepare. He hadn’t spent nearly a thousand years getting this island _just so_ for it to be ruined by one freak early storm. He tried not to glare up at the sun where his father Helios’ chariot raced across the sky, or glare out at the sea where deep below his mother Perse lived in a gloomy cave; they were nothing to him, and he to them, so this was not their spite on his head. Sometimes, considering the show they had all put into his banishment those many years ago, it was easy to forget that he was so unimportant to the gods as to be completely forgotten here on this island. He muttered a curse, but the bitterness of his exile had worn away with the years; it made little difference to him what any of them thought anymore.

Winding his way back down the path to his home, he paused to speak words of warning about the storm to any creature that crossed his path. The birds twittered nervously at the news and the deer fleeted away, but the fox gave him a sidelong glance and stalked off coldly, uncaring. He rolled his eyes. He _hated_ foxes.

Back in the clearing surrounding his home, he stood momentarily, surveying the tasks that would have to be done despite the heat of the mid-afternoon. Beginning with his garden, he put a covering over the tenderest shoots and tied the vines that were still finding grip on his trellises. He tucked his water bucket and garden tools away in case the winds whipped up. His cushions and low table he moved from the shady spot where he’d had his breakfast back into his home. As the day wore on and he had diligently put his clearing in careful order, he finally shooed his chickens towards their coop and boarded them in as they squawked indignantly at their early captivity.

It was almost evening and getting darker by the second when he heard the first roll of thunder. Soon after, loud droplets began to fall and he listened to their different timbre as they hit the roof, the yard, the trees around his home. Sakusa stood in his doorway and looked to the sky at the horizon, now an ominous green colour under heavy, roiling clouds. Shuddering, he let the door-flap fall, tying it securely down. Despite the lingering heat inside he tied the window flaps down too. Komori stretched and yawned lazily, lifting himself from the cool tile at the far end of the room and padding over to Sakusa with a rumble in his throat. Sakusa sat on a stool in front of the window and let Komori put his big chin in his lap, absent-mindedly giving him a scratch in the soft fur behind his ears. He peered out between the flap and the stone at the rain pouring down now, enjoying the softness of the pale brown fur and the gentle rumble of the mountain lion’s purr. Komori flicked his tail appreciatively then slunk to crouch in front of the door to peek out under the flap at the storm as well.

When Sakusa tired of watching the rain, he retreated to the very back of his abode where a tidy nest of cushions and blankets served as his sleeping quarters. He rarely needed sleep, but tonight he dropped into slumber despite the noise of the storm and slept deeply.

*

The heat was intense. They’d all taken off their tunics and were in nought but their undergarments as they sweated and burned on the deck of their ship. There was barely a breeze and of course no shade, and their sail hung slack and limp in the still air, so the Inarizaki men were forced to take turns at the oars. About midday, Suna had swung down from where he’d climbed the mast with a grim expression.

“Bad storm coming,” he said ominously, pointing off to starboard. Hearing the worried murmurs that went through the crew, their captain Kita tried to reassure them.

“The caprices of the gods are above us. All we can do is continue forward as the brave men we are,” he said, looking at each of them in turn. Atsumu, at least, felt pride swell within him, but the uncertain glances of the others remained. Suddenly, movement overhead caught Atsumu’s eyes and he looked up to see a crow flying overhead. He wanted to leap up and catch it and kiss it on its stupid head.

“Crow!” he exclaimed, pointing at it as it winged away purposefully. The whole crew turned to him in various expressions of confusion or exasperation. Even the augur, the crew’s priest who interpreted the wills of the gods from the patterns in the natural world, looked at him cluelessly.

“Who cares, dumbass,” his brother said, whacking him on the back of his head.

“Idiot! Crows live on land,” he said. “They can’t rest on water. There has to be an island nearby,” Atsumu replied, shoving Osamu away. Did he have to spell it out for these morons? He glanced at Kita and saw that he was looking at him with a look that seemed an awful lot like pride in his eyes, and he couldn't help the smile that grew across his face.

“So… Captain… do we follow it?” Aran asked. Kita hesitated, looking at the crow disappearing to portside then back at the storm to starboard.

“Yes,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sakusa and his giant cat Komori watching the rain together 🥺  
> -Oh shit what is going to happen? :0


	2. The Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa discovers a slain deer in his forest, and is enraged. Who is the culprit, and what will happen when they are found?

When he awoke after dawn the next morning, yesterday’s oppressive heat was gone. He sighed in relief and sat up slowly, giving Komori a fond pet when he lifted a lazy paw towards him. Komori had started staying here with Sakusa years ago, and Sakusa had built him a perch over the door where the big cat lounged most of the time, but yesterday’s heat and last night’s storm had forced him inside where he had weaseled his way into Sakusa’s bed. Sakusa hadn’t even noticed, he’d been so deeply asleep, but he didn’t mind. He rose and went to his wash basin, splashing his face and letting the water run down his bare chest with a shudder of pleasure at the coolness of it before towelling off and donning his robe. When he stepped to the front of the dwelling and noticed the rush mats at the entrace were soaking wet, he sighed. He’d have to hang them outside to dry, and that meant stepping on the bare dirt floor at his doorway for days. He gritted his teeth but dragged them out into the sunniest part of his yard, propping them off the ground with his laundry poles. Komori slid out from under the door flap and stretched before bounding off silently into the forest. Sakusa ducked back in to grab his basket, and went around the side of his home to the low chicken coop. Their soft cooing relieved him that they’d weathered the storm and as he slid the wooden door off they slipped out one by one and began pecking at the grass. He spread a bit of feed and reached in to check for eggs, delighting that he found one in each of their nests. Placing the eggs in his basket, he turned to the few head of goats and sheep resting in the hay beneath their small shelter. He filled their trough and milked the goats gently before he left them to their breakfast and returned to the house with his. Back in his dwelling, he stoked a small fire in his stove, putting a kettle on to boil and cracking the eggs in a pan. He’d be able to tolerate firing up the outdoor oven in today’s fresher weather so he set some dough to rise as he cooked his eggs and brewed his tea. Then he sat on his stool at the now-open window and looked out contemplatively while he ate.

Not long after, Komori bounded back into the clearing with blood on his muzzle and paws. He was about to enter the doorway when Sakusa cleared his throat disapprovingly and Komori slunk sheepishly to the trough beside the well. He stuck his face in reluctantly followed by his paws, washing just thouroughly enough that Sakusa said nothing further. He shook off and flopped down outside in the shade, beginning to lick his paws and swipe them across his head as further sign of his cleanliness. Sakusa smiled softly and brought his tea out to sit beside him on the grass.

He spent the rest of the morning tidying up his yard and tending to his plants, putting the bread in the oven just before midday. In the afternoon he left his clearing to check on other parts of the island for storm damage. He used his magic sparingly, knowing that patience and nature would heal most of the flattened shoots and broken branches. He was visited by the silent white eagle Ushi, who settled onto his shoulder comfortably as he walked. Today, Sakusa was pleased to see that Ushi had found a partner, a startlingly-bright red parrot named Tendou who squawked loudly and landed on Sakusa’s other shoulder. He spoke amicably to the two and Tendou squawked back at him before the pair flew off, looping around each other in flight and disappearing over the trees. Sakusa smiled; spring was the season for lovers, after all. The island would soon be covered in blossoms that rained down lazily in pink and white, coating everything in a fine delicate layer. He checked all the fruit trees for storm damage, not wanting to miss their beauty this year, and was pleased to see all their buds were still tightly closed up and unharmed by yesterday’s wicked weather.

He was winding his way slowly home through the forest as the late afternoon sun began to lengthen the shadows when he heard an anguished cry and the crash of branches up ahead. He rushed forward through the underbrush and saw the shuddering form of a deer collapsed in a clearing. He glanced about but saw no predators chasing her. He drew closer, trying to find the source of her distress.

Then he saw it. Dark blood pooling under her, too much of it. Her frightened eyes caught sight of him as he came forward and he used a spell of calming on her. Her eyes closed as he laid a gentle hand on her neck and she took one last shuddering breath before going still. He whispered a word of prayer over her body.

 _Who did this?_ he wondered to himself. He knew the animals of his island. Komori was too lazy to hunt without eating his kill, and he preferred the ease of small game anyways. There were only a few other big cats on the island, perhaps one of them had traveled this way? No, none of them would have bothered nor would they have let their prey escape. Foxes sometimes hunted for fun, to his disgust, but not usually something so big as a deer. He looked over her body. There were scratches from the underbrush but nothing major. So what had killed her? He lifted her gently into his arms and that’s when he saw it: an arrow, embedded in her side. Anger boiled within him and he whipped his head around.

_Humans. On his island._

He pulled himself up to his full stature, settling his divinity over his shoulders like a mantle, and strode off in the direction of her blood trail with her lifeless body cradled in his arms.

*

Atsumu blinked slowly, trying to get his bearings as he roused from sleep. He was on land, he could tell, but he could still hear and smell the sea. Where and how he’d gotten here remained foggy as his brain struggled to pull itself out of slumber. He rolled over and saw sand stretching away from him down to foamy water lapping calmy at the shore.

 _The storm,_ he suddenly remembered. They’d just made it to an island as it had started to get nasty, and they’d luckily found a beach where they could glide the boat right up. They’d pulled it across the sand to above the high tide mark and had all gratefully collapsed in exhaustion under a grassy overhang nearby. He quietly rose and looked over his sleeping companions, sliding out cautiously so as not to wake them. He saw Kita sitting on a rock on the beach, staring out to sea.

He shuffled through the sand and plopped unceremoniously down beside him on the sand. He knew Kita was crying without having to look.

“I miss my wife,” he said softly, and Atsumu hummed quietly and leaned his head on Kita’s thigh. Kita put a hand on his hair and gently pulled it through the knotted blonde locks. Atsumu loved him for it, and crushed back the bitterness that rose at the back of his throat. It was not Kita’s fault that he loved him unrequitedly.

“It’s planting season. I want to be home at my farm. My son will be old enough to help now, and I want to teach him to be a good man,” Kita continued quietly.

“He will be,” Atsumu said softly but with certainty, and Kita huffed a little laugh, patting the side of Atsumu’s head.

“Thank you, Atsumu,” he said, looking down at him with a smile. Atsumu lifted his head off Kita’s leg to look up at him and sensed the moment was nearing its end. As their leader, Kita did not like to be emotional in front of the crew, but occasionally when he and Atsumu were alone he would get to see these precious sides of Kita. No one had ever been like that with Atsumu, trusting him as anything more than a comrade-in-arms, and he craved it. He and Kita had done as all Greek warriors did on long stints away from their women, and Atsumu had fallen more in love with Kita for that too. But he knew without even having to ask how the love Kita held in his heart for Atsumu, the most love anyone had ever had for him, was not _of that kind_. And when they finally made it home, Kita would fall happily back into the arms of his wife while Atsumu could only watch.

Atsumu quickly wiped the tears from Kita’s cheeks and stood, offering his hands. Kita took them and stood as well, and they walked back up the beach together with Kita’s arm around Atsumu’s shoulder.

“We’ll stay here a few days to restock and rest a bit, then when the winds are favourable we’ll sail again,” he said to Atsumu, who nodded.

“We’ll make it home soon,” he replied, looking over at Kita. _Poseidon's wrath be damned,_ he thought. Kita smiled sadly back.

“I hope so, Atsumu,” he said. The others roused gradually as the sun rose and they prepared breakfast. Towards the middle of the day they began scouting for water to refill their casks and quickly found the mouth of a lovely clear stream as it tumbled down from the promontory that rose above the beach. Kita looked about for edible plants and Suna climbed to the top of a tree to scout the land around them from above. Aran collected firewood as Osamu organized their food stores and began preparing lunch. Akagi mended tears in the sails and the rest of the men performed maintenance on the ship. Atsumu, the best shot out of them all with sometimes-scary accuracy, picked up his bow and quiver to see what game he could find; it had been a while since they’d had fresh meat, and the crew’s eyes brightened up at the prospect.

When he let his arrow twang a few hours later, he knew it was a perfect shot directly to the heart. However, as unused as he was to being on dry land, he lost his balance slightly and stepped back to snap a dry twig. The deer jerked up and twitched away and the arrow pierced her non-fatally in the side instead. She squealed and ran off and he followed with a curse but quickly lost her in the unfamiliar woods. Not wanting to get himself lost, he returned to the beach empty-handed to jeers from Osamu for being a poor shot. He glared at him as he accepted a bowl of Osamu’s cooking, disappointingly meatless, mumbling defensively that he’d make sure they all feasted on venison the next day. It was late in the afternoon, drawing towards evening, and they all sat around a small fire eating and discussing their next steps.

Atsumu had the sudden prickling sensation of being watched, and he slowly put down his empty bowl and stood, grabbing his bow. He turned to look at the promontory above the beach and pulled an arrow out of his quiver, aligning it against the bowstring in preparedness to draw. The others quieted down and looked at him, then towards the promontory as well. He pulled his lips back in a grimace. It wasn’t a normal feeling of being watched. The air felt thick. _This is bad,_ he thought as he scanned the promontory.

Kita looked to Atsumu again and could read what he felt in his expression. The others seemed less alarmed but Atsumu knew Kita would trust Atsumu’s gut feeling. He stood.

“Who goes there?” Kita called out. “My archer is trained on you. Reveal yourself.” Atsumu’s heart fluttered a bit at Kita calling him _his_ archer, but then movement caught his eye and he honed in on a figure coming down the slope. He pointed the arrow but didn’t draw, inhaling to steady himself. His crew’s eyes followed the direction of his arrow and they saw the figure as well. As it drew closer, he blinked in surprise. He heard Aran gasp. He couldn’t look away to check their expressions as he kept his eyes trained on his target but he knew now they would understand his previous unease.

This figure was a man in shape, but he was tall, and projecting from either side of his head were tightly-coiled black horns that ended in sharp points decorated with gold tips. A headband of leaves rested under the base of these horns and held the tight black curls of his hair out of his face. He wore robes of a fabric Atsumu had never seen before, and he was familiar with many fabrics as he had been gifted a lot of robes by women who desired him as a suitor. They were of a shimmery fabric that was sometimes gold, sometimes yellow, and draped elegantly across his sculpted body as he walked. The air around him seemed to crackle and shift unnaturally. In his arms he carried a dead deer, and Atsumu jolted as he recognized the fletching on the arrow sticking out of its side as his own. The scowl on this figure’s face was enough to convey how he felt about the poor shot Atsumu had made.

“I need not fear your archer if this is the calibre of his aim,” the figure said in a dark voice. Atsumu bristled and drew his arrow, anger quelling the awe he felt at this strange figure. The full gaze of the figure flicked from Kita, who had spoken, to Atsumu, who had moved.

“You,” he said, practically growling. Atsumu was not one to back down from a challenge.

“Me,” he growled back, not moving his bow away from pointing directly at the stranger’s heart.

“Atsumu,” came Kita’s soft voice, and he let his arrow drop a notch. “Please,” Kita continued, and Atsumu slowly lowered his bow to point at the ground, but he wouldn’t fully release his grip. The figure gently placed the deer’s body on the ground and rose again.

“Hail, stranger. Be you god or man?” Kita said respectfully, bowing now.

“Neither,” the figure said, and a shiver went up Atsumu’s spine despite himself. The stranger raised a hand and pointed at them. “And now, neither shall you be,” he said, and Atsumu’s vision exploded painfully and he writhed, bow dropping from his hands and arrow twanging uselessly into the dirt as he fell to the ground. When he came to again, he saw the retreating back of the stranger over the carcass of the deer he’d left. He snapped his head around to look at the others and saw instead of his companions a group of foxes picking themselves up confusedly from the ground.

 _No no no no no, this isn’t happening,_ he thought desperately to himself. But as he gaped longer, he realized these had to be his companions. The Kita-fox was pale silver with black ear-tips and paws. Osamu was dark grey and he was leaning on Suna who had long, pitch-black fur. Aran was still the biggest of them and had a rich brown closely-cropped pelt. The other men ranged in tones and hues but they were all unmistakably his crew and equally unmistakably foxes. Finally, gulping, Atsumu looked down at his own feet and to his absolute horror saw that they were indeed _paws_ covered in pale golden fur. He screamed.

Or, at least, he tried to scream. All that came out was the strangled yelp of a fox.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Yes Author-san is cherry-picking aspects of _The Odyssey_ for her own selfish purposes. okay I admit it, Circe doesn't canonically have horns but SAKUSA WITH CURLY BLACK HORNS YES.  
> -Kita is loosely based on Odysseus, a strong fighter but a man known more for his intellect, strategy, and ability to convince others and bring them to their single purpose.  
> -ARTWORK OF THIS SCENE FORTHCOMING, find me at [my twitter](https://twitter.com/mogimeadow) to see it as soon as I'm finished 💜


	3. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa begrudgingly takes the new animals on his island under his care. Atsumu doesn't yet trust the complete change in demeanor from the demigod who transformed them to the guardian who is now caring for them.

_Foxes,_ he groaned internally, smacking his palm against his forehead and dragging it down his face. _Why did it have to be foxes?_ He looked down at their crumpled forms with distaste. The last crew who’d incurred his wrath had become pigs. They’d all been so stupid to begin with they’d immediately lost their human memories and had integrated with the wild boars of his island. That had been several hundred years ago. He guessed this crew was smarter, or his transformation spellcasting was rusty. Pigs were easy to manage. Foxes were a pain in the ass.

The foxes began to stir, and he turned and began to walk away. _This is tomorrow’s problem,_ he thought bitterly. He was too worn out from that spell to attempt to transform them again, and he didn’t even know if it would work since he had obviously not intended to transform them into foxes in the first place. Resigned to this new annoyance, he returned slowly to his home and collapsed for the second night in a row into a deep sleep.

When Sakusa awoke the next morning groggily, stumbling to his wash-basin, he didn’t immediately recall the previous evening’s events. He shuffled out the door and was cheerfully greeted by Komori who leapt down from his perch then bounded off into the woods. He tended the chickens, goats, and sheep in a haze then returned to his stove for breakfast. It wasn’t until he was seated at the window with his tea as usual that he remembered the foxes.

He grimaced at the memory of their small, unconscious forms on the dark beach. Inwardly he lamented the ill-advised oath he’d taken to live as one with the life of this island, protecting and caring for it, after several hundred years of exile had proven that his family amongst the gods had forsaken him—or forgotten him. Even though the oath had had only Komori as a witness and he hadn’t even invoked the gods by name as he made the sacrifice, oaths were something Sakusa took very seriously. Now that the crew was here and they were technically animals, he would have to look after their care even though they’d become the animal that most annoyed him. Gathering up some dried herbs and a bushel of apples from his root cellar in his basket, he stepped out into the morning light. He walked slowly to the beach, not looking forward to the coming ordeal of seeing the beasts who had previously been men.

When Sakusa arrived at the beach, he saw no sign of them but he knew they were here, and he knew _they_ knew _he_ was here. Their archer’s senses had been sharp enough as a human without the added intensity newfound fox senses would give him. He saw that they’d picked the deer’s body clean and was pleased that at least her death hadn’t been wasted.

Sakusa whirled away, uncaring to wait for them if they wanted to hide. He walked back up the slope to the mouth of the stream before it tumbled down to the beach below and began to wash the apples; just because they were beasts didn’t mean their food shouldn’t be clean. He inhaled and realized he’d knelt down in some wild mint, and—delighting in the aroma—he pulled off a leaf to wash before chewing on it. Mint was his favourite; he’d have to remember it grew here and come back to dig up a clump for planting in his garden. As he chewed, he began to rehydrate and mix the dried herbs he’d brought in a little dish with a pestle. He added some fresh mint too, mostly to make the whole mix more palatable. When he sensed movement behind him he didn’t turn, continuing with his work.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, still not turning around. Finally, he finished and turned to see five pairs of pointy ears and five pairs of sharp eyes trained in his direction. Internally he groaned again at how many more damn _foxes_ he’d just added to the population of his island, but he kept his face neutral as he placed the dish of mixed herbs on the ground.

“Come. Your stomachs won’t have adjusted yet, and you just ate raw meat. You’ll feel better if you have some of this mixture,” he explained. To prove it wasn’t poison, he dipped his finger in it and brought it to his own lips. “Tastes like mint,” he said. Then he tipped the apples out of his basket beside the bowl on the ground. “I’ll be back later,” he said, and walked off. He was a little ways down the trail when he heard a noise and suddenly found the silvery fox in front of him in a supplicant’s pose. _The leader,_ he thought, eyeing its bowed head distrustfully. Whether he was thanking him for the food or begging to be transformed back, Sakusa was unsure, but he was still wary. The only men that sailed near this island were warriors, and the only warriors that made it past the treacherous seas beyond it were either extremely cunning or extremely lucky. The pig crew had been of the latter category, but Sakusa got the sense that the fox crew were of the former. He moved to keep walking and nudged the silver fox out of the way gently with his foot. All of a sudden there was another noise and the golden fox had leapt between himself and the silver fox, snarling protectively. Sakusa blinked down at the golden fox as the silver fox shuffled backwards. _The archer,_ he thought, clenching his fists and looking contemptfully down at him.

“I won’t hurt any of you. I am the guardian of the plants and animals of this island. Now get out of my way,” he said, settling his godhead around himself like a mantle again. The silver fox nudged the gold one again and he finally relented, but he didn’t break eye contact with Sakusa as he slunk away with a low growl. Sakusa shuddered. No foxes were good foxes in his opinion, but it was even creepier to have a fox look at him with the eyes of a man.

*

They had all been groggy after the transformation, and had collapsed into a pile soon after to have a fitful sleep. The next morning, Atsumu awoke to a face-full of Aran’s fuzzy fur and he sighed quietly. _So it wasn’t a bad dream,_ he thought, and begrugingly pulled himself up out of their pile without rousing them.

Kita, now a silver fox rather than a strong and gentle man, was once again perched on the rock staring out to sea. Atsumu trotted through the sand and climbed up beside him on the rock. Finding himself unable to speak, he instead made whining noise as he nuzzled into the fur at Kita’s neck. If Kita was mad at Atsumu for the part he’d played in their transformation, he didn’t show it, and he nuzzled Atsumu back. Atsumu laid down beneath his leader and wrapped his tail around him. _What a mess,_ he thought, but Kita’s presence as always calmed him. He just hoped he could do the same for Kita. _How were they going to get home now?_

By the time the others were awake they were all starving, but all of their food was safely packed up in crates on the ship which they looked up at forlornly from their newfound positions on all-fours. Osamu trotted over to the deer from last night and gave it a sniff. A tentative bite became a second, surer bite, and then the rest of the crew trotted over to join in. Atsumu took a bite to quell his stomach’s pangs, but a feeling he wasn’t used to that seemed suspiciously like guilt clawed its way up his throat and he quickly gave up on eating for now. Soon after, he sensed the stranger coming closer. At his urging, each of them skittered to find a hiding place not long before the stranger arrived and quietly surveyed the beach before turning away and walking back up the slope to the stream. Atsumu was the first to follow, and he knew Kita, Osamu, Suna, and Aran would be right behind him. As he got closer, the wafting aroma of mint greeted his sensitive nose. He peered into the clearing and saw the figure kneeling at the creek, carefully washing apples. Then he started mixing herbs in a dish. Atsumu guessed he sensed their presence because he soon spoke.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, and his voice was much softer than last night. His entire being seemed softer, actually. Aside from the indescribable robe and the thick curled horns protruding from his head over his divine laurel crown, the stranger seemed like just any ordinary hermit. Atsumu wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. When he turned around to look at them, expressions Atsumu couldn’t understand flickered through his dark eyes but his face remained neutral. _Why is he offering to help our stomachs? Doesn’t he want us to suffer?_ Atsumu wondered, and he looked at his companions in confusion. As the stranger walked away he tentatively sniffed the mixture. He gave it a lick, and found it did in fact taste like mint. The rest of them gave it a lick too, and Aran thoughtfully went to fetch the rest of the crew to get them to come have some. Kita looked after the stranger, and all of a sudden ran off after him. Atsumu was one beat behind.

When he saw the stranger pushing aside Kita with his foot dismissively, his blood boiled, and he was there in an instant, snarling. The stranger’s eyes changed from wary to angry in an instant when he saw Atsumu. Kita pushed him, urging him to back off. Eventually Atsumu relented but he couldn’t stop himself from glaring at the so-called “guardian” of this island as he flitted off into the bush behind Kita.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Circe in Greek Myth is known for her prowess with potions and plants, so Sakusa has these talents as well :]  
> -Atsumu is an archer because. Setter. Accuracy. "Supporting attackers." Makes cents in my brain hjfkdsdks  
> -Atsufox and Kitafox snuggling rt if u cri evry tiem


	4. Growing Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Examining each other curiously in fleeting moments, both Sakusa and Atsumu are intrigued by the character they glimpse shining through.

Spring, back to normal after that freak storm, brought forth blossoms which blushed and fluttered in the warmer breeze. Every morning after his usual routine, Sakusa would walk down to the foxes with something, whether it was food or herbs or bedding. Once, he even brought them a deer slain by his own hand, a single arrow straight through its heart. He pulled the arrow out and threw it down, twanging into the ground in front of the archer.

“That is how you kill humanely,” he said, glaring. The golden fox snapped his teeth at him, but wore an expression that could only be described as sheepish. The foxes who interacted with him the most, the five that had followed him to the clearing the first day, had definitely maintained their human souls and memories. He wasn’t sure about the rest of their crew, as he sometimes thought he saw them darting after a fox who was native to his island. But he could have been wrong. The entire crew seemed to maintain a certain harmony, even as everything they’d previously understood had changed. The grey one and the black shaggy one were clearly partners. The silver one was still their gentle leader, and the power he had over his whole crew, especially the golden fox, hadn’t changed. The big brown fox was their quiet strength, and the golden one was brash but fiercely loyal. Sakusa admitted he had begrudging respect for these foxes who had once been men.

He knew they were observing him as curiously as he was observing them, and he wondered what they’d see. He admitted he had very little idea of the sorts of men they’d been, or why they’d ended up here. He’d always protected his island and himself by transforming humans into animals, but he’d never had them retain their souls and memories. He worried briefly about the morality of keeping them as creatures when they were still clearly men, and wondered if it would draw wrath from the gods. His exile, previously a curse, had become a blessing to him as he was unbothered by the caprices of the gods, and he wanted to continue in his peaceful solitude here. He hesitantly considered transforming them back to avoid notice from those more powerful, but then he thought about the damage he’d seen humans do, the horrible tragedies of his siblings’ lives orchestrated by the hands of mortals and gods alike, and his jaw clenched. Who’s to say they wouldn’t try to overpower him; after all, he had transformed a full crew of seasoned warriors into animals and kept them hostage on his island. Though he was a demigod, he could still be slain by the weapons he knew awaited them on their ship. He was old, ancient even, and he’d never once met a human or a god he trusted.

He lifted his eyes and found the golden fox staring at him, and he hardened his heart.

*

This so-called guardian was really starting to be an enigma for Atsumu. Despite the dark rage he’d felt rolling off of him the night he’d transformed them and flashes of anger that occasionally darted across his neutral features, he was really the gentlest creature Atsumu had ever encountered. He brought them things every day, whether it was something to eat or another concoction of herbs for whatever he thought might ail them. A few days into this and he wasn’t dropping his gift and walking off immediately but lingering around curiously, and a few days after that he was sitting down on the ground to spend time just watching them.

One of these mornings, he was seated on a lump of grass a few feet away from where they were eating. The smell of mint wafted to Atsumu; his being always smelled faintly of mint. He seemed deep in thought, and Atsumu watched him.

“What sort of men were they?” he heard him mumble. Atsumu started, but it seemed the guardian was still lost in thought. “What sort of man am I?” he mumbled again, and then was silent. After a long moment he looked up and caught Atsumu staring at him. Atsumu held his gaze as his eyes lost their glazed-over appearance, but quickly averted his gaze as soon as the full force of the guardian’s dark eyes was upon him. Too many emotions roiled there for Atsumu, and they held the knowledge of too many years.

But after this, he found himself fascinated by the guardian. He would watch him any chance he got. Eventually, boredom at their camp and the shortness of the stranger’s visits caused him to begin sneaking after the guardian as he left their camp. He followed him briefly, wanting to see what else he did on this island. It seemed like he did more of the same; he helped animals, he tended plants. He used a bit of magic, but Atsumu could see that he mostly just tended to them as any careful farmer would tend his crops. It reminded him somewhat of Kita, or at least, the Kita he could remember from before the war. Sometimes, the guardian stood thoughtfully for a long time and admired flowers or views, and Atsumu would stand silently for a long time watching him. On the third day, he was sure the guardian noticed him, but he said nothing about it and carried on.

Not one to tolerate being ignored for very long, Atsumu was quick to grow bolder, flitting closer to the guardian and touching all the things he touched. It was when he got a little too cheeky and knocked over a trellis the guardian had just placed up against a tree that he whirled around and fully acknowledged Atsumu’s presence following him for the first time. Atsumu felt a thrill go up his spine as he met that dark glare, then to his surprise the guardian smacked his palm against his face and dragged it down in a _very human_ expression of exasperation.

“Foxes. Why did it have to be _foxes,_ ” the guardian groaned, and Atsumu couldn’t contain the mirth that flowed through him. This being wasn’t omniscient, he wasn’t omnipotent, and most importantly he was _almost_ just like any other human. And aside from archery, there was nothing that Atsumu excelled at more than riling people up. He laughed as he skittered off through the bush, the sound of his own voice coming out of his fox mouth startling him slightly but he didn’t care, he had a new form of entertainment to explore.

So he continued to follow him around day after day. It felt intimate, in a way, like the moments he had with Kita when none of the other men were around. Everything about this guardian felt intimate, as if he was standing at his own hearth at all times. Atsumu wondered if the whole island _was_ his hearth, or if he had a dwelling place somewhere. Maybe he disappeared into the sky at night, or never slept. Atsumu wondered if he had family. Were there more guardians on this island? Atsumu certainly hoped there weren’t, because he didn’t want to be transformed again into something worse. Fox wasn’t ideal, but it certainly wasn’t bad. As he scampered back to the camp in the afternoon with a rabbit in his jaws for Kita and himself, he found he was oddly content with how his days were spent on this admittedly very beautiful, peaceful island.

Curled up tightly with Kita as they slept, he slept dreamlessly and looked forward to new discoveries in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does a little jig*


	5. The Fountain Begins to Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa speaks to the golden fox, who is now a regular companion on his daily walks. Atsumu wishes he could speak back.

He said nothing when he noticed the second shadow following him, though it didn’t annoy him as much as he thought it would, and continued on his regular rounds of the island. When several days later he noticed the colour of the fur, he was surprised to see that it had been the golden fox following him for the past few days. When it left him in the afternoons he would walk thoughtfully back to his home alone. Eventually the fox got bolder and began what he could only describe as teasing, knocking over things he’d carefully balanced or trampling through flowers he’d just been admiring. On some such occasions, when he’d successfully gotten a rise out of Sakusa, he could hear the unmistakable sound of a man’s laughter coming out of the fox’s throat as he ran off into the woods.

One day, he stopped in front of a beautifully blooming cherry tree and looked up in awe, the golden fox padding up quietly beside him. He could feel its eyes on him but he just enjoyed the scent and the sight of the pink blossoms with a tiny smile on his face. And then, he did something that probably surprised them both; he spoke to the fox. Nothing of consequence, just some asinine comment about the beauty of spring, but it was just the fountainhead. It had been a very long time since this fountain had flowed.

On their daily walks now, Sakusa would often talk to the golden fox, explaining what he was doing or the medicinal properties of a plant or what he was telling the other animals. It was different, talking to the golden fox, because of course he wasn’t really a fox. All the other animals Sakusa spoke to were in fact animals. Even Komori, who was bright and gentle and loyal, was still just a mountain lion. Sometimes as they walked in silence, Sakusa found himself wishing on more than one occasion that the fox, no, the _man,_ could talk back. Which was stupid, because he was the one who’d transformed him into a fox in the first place. His spells were not as strong as everyone thought—something he hid for his own safety—and he was not capable of altering a mortal’s life essence. If a human transformed by Sakusa’s hand lost its soul, memories, and voice, it was weakness in their own self rather than something taken by Sakusa’s transformation spell.

“Everyone I’ve ever transformed has lost their souls, their memories, their voices immediately. But you and your kindred… For the first time, you are still men. The fact that you and your crew haven’t become simple beasts proves to me that you’ve kept your souls and memories,” he said, looking down at the fox. The fox padded contentedly beside him, bright eyes glancing up from the path they walked to look at him as he spoke then look back down at the trail. Sakusa was still amazed at how much of the fox’s facial expressions he could read. Perhaps this man had always worn his heart on his sleeve, and was no different as a fox.

Sakusa took a deep breath after his thoughtful pause. “And I bet, if you tried, you could find your voice again,” he continued, trying not to sound as eager as he felt. They were climbing the gentle hillside where the olive trees grew to the spout of the creek where the cool rock would soothe them in the hot afternoon. Sakusa walked the rest of the way deep in thought. He sat with a huff in the shade of the rock at the creek’s source, lazily splashing water on his face and head, allowing it to drip over him.

“I don’t know why you follow me. You should hate me. But I’ve never had a person to talk to. And I find I wish you could talk back,” he finally admitted. _Without turning you back,_ he added in his mind. This playful golden fox was growing on him, but he still didn’t trust him and his crew as _humans._ The golden fox flopped down dramatically across from him under the overhang and looked up at him with inscrutable, still eerily-human eyes.

The next day, the golden fox didn’t run off in the afternoon and as Sakusa turned his steps towards home it continued to walk alongside him. As he entered his clearing, the fox’s hackles rose and Sakusa turned to see Komori stretching on his perch. The big cat leapt down in one graceful motion and loped happily towards Sakusa. A blur of gold came out of the side of his vision and all of a sudden the gold fox was crouched in front of Sakusa growling at Komori menacingly. Shock and surprise gave way to an odd sort of fondness as Sakusa looked down at the bristling fox. Komori had stopped and was looking questioningly at Sakusa.

“Easy, golden fox. He’s a friend,” he said, ruffling the fur on the top of the fox’s head gently as he walked forward to Komori and knelt in front of him to give him a good scratch. Komori purred in delight and flicked his tail triumphantly at the fox who stood watching in surprise a few feet away.

“His name is Komori. He lives with me. I wish I knew your name so I could introduce you,” he said the the fox. The fox opened his mouth and rasped but no words came out. “Perhaps in time,” Sakusa said. “Come, I’ll show you my home,” he gestured. “Stay away from my chickens though,” he warned, and the fox grinned cheekily up at him. “Right, no promises. Got it,” he said, rolling his eyes.

*

When the guardian said he wanted Atsumu to talk back, all of a sudden Atsumu was desperate to be able to speak. As he ran from his side back to his fox companions he tried and failed over and over again to say something, anything, but nothing came out. He slept curled into Kita as usual and offered what hollow comfort he could on Kita’s silent beach vigil in the morning, but as soon as the others were awake he ran off immediately. He followed the guardian for longer than usual and eventually they ended up in a clearing that seemed to be his dwelling place. Atsumu just had a moment to appreciate the well-kept garden in front of a dwelling carved directly into the rock-face, covered in vines, before an unfamiliar scent filled his nostrils. He tensed and his first instinct was to reach for a bow and arrow, but of course that was no longer an option. Then he saw it; the mountain lion jumping down from the rocks above the house-like structure and running towards them. Without thinking, he leapt forward to stand in between the attacking lion and the guardian, bristling and ready to fight even though the mountain cat was at least three times his size. It stopped though, and looked curiously at him. Then he felt a touch on his head and he froze; the guardian’s hand gave him a gentle caress and then was gone and he was saying something, but adrenaline at the supposed threat and the feel of the guardian’s hand on his head made the blood rush loudly through his ears and Atsumu didn’t quite understand. He heard the name of this beast, Komori, and he heard the guardian ask his own name. He tried again and failed to rasp out his name, and disappointment filled his chest.

But then the guardian was smiling at him even though Atsumu had grinned mischievously at the thought of stealing a fresh chicken, and he was leading him through the tidy clearing where his garden grew, so Atsumu couldn’t hold onto his disappointment for long. They entered under a leather door-flap and he looked around the dwelling in wonder, admiring the way the one big room embedded into the mountainside was divided beautifully into its multiple purposes. He looked at the scrolls of vellum with intricate drawings of plants organized neatly on a shelf beside cushions and a low table. He saw the cozy kitchen with its functional stove and tiled floor, and the abandoned mug of tea in front of the window where the stool was still pulled out from the wide sill. He saw the tidy nest of bedclothes in the back corner, tucked beside a simple ceramic wash-basin over a shelf holding more woolens and furs. Finally his eyes took in the beautifully-carved bow and quiver hanging on the wall beside an intricately-decorated shield and short sword, and he paused, staring. The guardian must have noticed his look because he laughed softly and pulled the bow and quiver down to place it on the floor for Atsumu to look at. He wanted nothing more than to draw it, and he let out a whine. The guardian looked at him contemplatively then hung the bow and arrows back up on the wall, walking towards the kitchen where he pulled up a trapdoor to his root cellar. They settled in the grass outside and watched the late afternoon turn into evening as they ate a small meal of cheese and fruit in comfortable silence. Then Atsumu ran back to the beach as darkness fell, but with a warm feeling in his chest. Kita looked at him curiously but he just snuggling into him happily and they fell asleep intertwined as usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you get _Le Petit Prince_ vibes from this fox-taming, yes, yes you do...


	6. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa and Atsumu finally learn each others' names.

One afternoon in the vineyard beside the olive grove, Sakusa sat under a gnarled trunk with his lunch in his lap. The golden fox flopped down beside him and put his head in his lap, looking longingly towards Sakusa’s cheese. He laughed and held out a piece which the fox gratefully licked off, then plunked his head back down on his thigh and looked up at Sakusa. He reached a tentative hand out and laid it gently on the fox’s head, giving him a scratch in the soft golden fur behind his ears. The fox made a pleased sound, halfway between a purr and a hum.

“I wish you would tell me your name,” he mumbled down at the fox. His eyes were closed in pleasure and he leaned into Sakusa’s touch.

“Atsumu,” came a soft reply.

“What?” Sakusa exclaimed, jolting his hand back in surprise. The fox looked up at him, confused and seemingly upset that the head-scratch had ended so soon. “You just spoke!” he continued, and the fox’s eyes widened. “Your name is… Atsumu?” he said softly, questioningly, and the fox—now he knew called Atsumu—jumped up. “Try again,” he said to the fox, who was looking a little dazed.

“What’s yer name?” came the tentative reply, and then Atsumu’s expression brightened as he realized he really could speak. Sakusa wondered if his wish had granted the power of speech to Atsumu unbeknownst to him. He wasn’t supposed to be able change the speech of humans, but there was much he didn’t know about power or magic and he couldn’t exactly ask any other gods. It was also equally possible that Atsumu had found his voice on his own. Then, as he finally realized the question Atsumu had asked, he smacked his own face and groaned.

“Don’t tell me I never told you my name,” he said, mortified at his own disregard for the rules of hosting as overseen by Zeus, king of the gods, himself. He guessed he was extremely out of practice at hosting, but even still, he’d introduced his mountain lion pet to Atsumu before he’d given his own name.

Atsumu grinned at him. “Nope! Never did!” he said, oh-so-casually considering he hadn’t spoken in weeks and Sakusa was still a deity, albeit an unimportant, banished, lesser one. _Oh, gods,_ Sakusa thought as he looked down at that wicked grin, heart thumping. _Atsumu speaking might be worse than Atsumu not speaking._ But nothing could be done about that now, and Sakusa was already familiar enough with Atsumu’s style of playful banter even though he was a bit thrown off by the newfound voice and the faraway accent.

“I am Sakusa, son of the sun-god Helios by the water-nymph Perse,” he said, and he couldn’t resist settling his godhead over himself slightly. Atsumu’s eyes widened and he backed up a step. “I am a demigod and the guardian of this island, but it is also my prison where I have been banished for my crimes against the gods,” he continued ominously. Then he released the aura and continued softly, “but the last time I had a friend, I was called Kiyoomi.”

Atsumu blinked at him, then grinned. “That’s nice, Omi-omi,” he said, then skittered away when Sakusa glared at him. “Bye bye, thanks for the cheese!” he called over his shoulder as he ran away. Sakusa sighed, but he couldn’t keep the flutterings of a small smile off his lips as he watched the golden fox—no, Atsumu—skip away cheekily. Maybe he wouldn’t regret coaxing Atsumu into speaking after all.

*

_Omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi_ ran through Atsumu’s head like a heartbeat as he trotted, keeping pace with his quick paws as they tread sure-footedly over the uneven forest floor. He felt like laughing, and he didn’t know why, but he did it anyway. It was nearing evening when he leapt to catch a pheasant out of the sky and brought it back to camp where his companions were. He trotted directly to Kita and dropped the bird proudly at his feet, nuzzling into him. Osamu nipped his tail but he decided tonight to take the higher ground and merely flicked his tail in annoyance without engaging in their usual tussle. Kita and Osamu looked at him suspiciously as his good mood oozed out of him. Aran simply smiled, enjoying the peace for a change. When Suna dropped down from where he’d been on lookout on the promontory, he gave Atsumu a suspicious glance too, but then again he was always looking at Atsumu with suspicion.

“I remembered how to talk,” he blurted out, and they all jolted in surprise at the first voice they’d heard in weeks. “Ye can all do it too, I think,” he continued, then nudged the bird encouragingly at Kita who was eating less and less these days. The foxes all tried to rasp out words but nothing came out.

“Guess this means I’ll win all the arguments!” Atsumu crowed triumphantly, and Osamu glared. When he tried to tackle him he simply pranced out of the way and laughed in his face with his very human laugh. Kita and Aran had given up and were curled up together, watching the twins bicker as usual with complacent resignation visible on their faces. Aran pushed the bird towards Kita as Atsumu had, and Kita reluctantly ate.

The next morning after comforting Kita on his lonely vigil on the rock looking out to the sea, Atsumu tore off to find Sakusa. He hadn’t brought anything down to them in the camp this morning but Atsumu was now familiar with this part of the island and he had only to rush in the direction of Sakusa’s home till he found the wafting scent of mint that lingered behind him wherever he walked. Then he followed his nose as the smell got stronger and stronger until he found Sakusa along a quiet riverbank. His breath caught in his throat to see Sakusa up to his thighs in the slow-moving water, washing his robes in just his undergarments. He watched silently from the bushes, mesmerized by the dotting of moles that made constellations across Sakusa’s pale back. The spell he was under was broken as Sakusa returned to the bank and lay his robes over a boulder to dry, walking back into the water with other items to wash. Atsumu’s mischievous side took hold and before he could stop to think, he was silently pulling the robe off the boulder and sneaking away through the bushes with it in tow, dragging on the ground behind. He only went a few hundred paces and settled down happily under a large shady tree, curling up on top of the beautiful albeit sopping and now filthy fabric comfortably as he closed his eyes to wait.

A few minutes later, he felt the air change and he opened his eyes to the glorious sight of a very pissed-off Sakusa standing nearly naked and dripping in front of him, mouth pulled backwards in a snarl. Atsumu grinned and skittered off, absolutely ecstatic with how his morning was going.

He spent the rest of the morning avoiding Sakusa, the mirth from this morning’s prank filling him with unbridled energy as he ran around the now well-known paths of their daily wanderings. Any wiff of mint sent him skittering off, but he didn’t cross paths with Sakusa again until he was returning to camp in the oncoming evening with a rabbit in his jaws. Sakusa gave him a cold look, but Atsumu just grinned bloodily and ducked around him. As he trotted off with a wink over his shoulder, he saw Sakusa flick his wrist and send a flash of green light from his hand to the fur of Atsumu’s rump, burning and tingling as a small patch of hair beside his tail was burnt bare by the tiny green flame. Atsumu yelped around the rabbit in his mouth but it was Sakusa’s turn to laugh as he turned his steps towards his abode once again.

Back at the clearing, Kita nosed the small patch of bare fur concernedly while Osamu laughed at Atsumu with his unmistakably human laugh. None of the other foxes had been able to speak yet but Osamu had regained his laugh, much to Atsumu’s chagrin. Atsumu sulked for a moment and hid his bald patch by sitting on that side of his rump. He wasn’t able to stay bitter long, as soon Kita was clearing his throat ponderously.

“Thank you for the supper, Atsumu,” Kita spoke rustily, but with the voice they’d all missed so much. Overjoyed by the return of Kita’s voice, the crew was in high spirits as they ate their mixed meal of small game. Atsumu and Kita began taking turns regaling the rest of them with the best tales from the war they’d all fought on the shores of Karasuno, and their adventures since on their way home to Inarizaki. They fell asleep soon after, with full bellies and hearts welling with pride at their small but loyal crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -If you're interested in Ancient Greek things, "Xenia" is a term referring to the rules of etiquette surrounding host and guest relationships that are overseen by Zeus. There's a few little hints of this earlier in the fic (why the deer was such an insult, Kita taking the "supplicant's pose" after their transformation, Sakusa worrying if he's going to incur wrath for his treatment of the crew, etc. etc.)  
> -also, storytelling was super meaningful to them since written history was less common, so it's 🥺 that Kita and Atsumu tell stories of the war around the fire


	7. Midsummer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa and Atsumu spend more time together, and each fall a little bit further in love.

The days continued peacefully on the island as summer wore on, and the golden fox spent more and more time with Sakusa. He still went to visit the foxes at their camp to bring them food and herbal concoctions, and he was somewhat relieved to hear them all gradually regaining their voices as it proved that he had had no part in Atsumu’s regaining his speech. The captain—Kita, he learned from Atsumu—was exceptionally polite with him, as was the large one Atsumu named as Aran. All of them gave due reverence but he could tell their fear of him had faded with his air of divinity and with his increasing companionship with Atsumu, who he gathered held a lot of sway over the hearts of the crew. The grey one, apparently Atsumu’s twin brother despite the differences between them, always nosed out Sakusa’s basket if he’d brought food with him for the foxes, but Atsumu always tussled with him if he came near. Then Sakusa and Atsumu would walk off and tend to the island together.

Sakusa introduced him to his favourite animals and told him their names and stories from their lives as they intertwined with his own. Atsumu looked on with awe, for once silent again, as the great white bird Ushi sat perched atop Sakusa’s shoulder, mesmerized by the giant bird of prey. The red parrot Tendou was still accompanying Ushi, and he squawked gleefully at Atsumu and dove about his head teasingly. Atsumu jumped about with him, playing, and Sakusa smiled to himself. They met briefly with another mountain lion, Yaku, who pretended to hunt Atsumu before slinking off haughtily with a sound he could only describe as a laugh when Sakusa bade him stop. The beautiful and swift deer who was queen of the herd, Kiyoko, wouldn’t allow them to come near, but Sakusa described her speed and how it rivaled the speed of his father Helios’ divine chariots.

While they’d started off with only Sakusa speaking as Atsumu listened in spell-inflicted silence, it quickly became the reverse as Atsumu regained his voice and told amazing stories of the world and the part he’d played in it. Sakusa loved his island, but he had had little experience in the world as he’d been banished from the deep-sea caves of his mother to this island before he’d seen much of it. All he knew of the outside world, he had gathered from the whispers of the sea nymphs, the visions of the conjured crows he sent to scout around his island, and the one or two times in almost a thousand years that Hermes, messenger of the gods, had stopped on his island with news from far and wide in exchange for food and wine. From this, he pieced together stories of his siblings and the horrors they wrought with their lives amongst humankind, the rise and fall of heroes and cities of renown, and the lay of the nearby rocky isles and coasts that dotted between stretches of treacherous seas. Otherwise, Sakusa lived in isolation on his island unless a warship, a shipwreck survivor, or a wayward fisherman happened upon the shores despite the protective measures he was forced to take to hide himself and his island paradise. Sakusa had been lonely but content, until a small golden fox had somehow woven his way into Sakusa’s everyday life and filled it with wondrous tales of travel, battle, family, and friends. He found Atsumu somehow fit seamlessly into his life of tidy routines and quiet contemplation by being the exact opposite: spontaneous and emotional, mischievous and loud. Sakusa came to dread the part of the afternoon when Atsumu would leave his side with a cheery goodbye as he went off to hunt for his captain.

The first night that Atsumu stayed with Sakusa instead of going back to his camp, it was a hot day in midsummer with little breeze. They were seated in the shade under the big tree outside Sakusa’s dwelling together, only having been able to stomach some berries and goat milk all day as they lay companionably, mostly quiet and sweating in the grass. As the afternoon wore on and clouds rolled in to finally release some cooling rain at the edge of evening, Sakusa let the first raindrops crest his shoulders and dampen his curls before he moved to head inside. Atsumu sat up and looked at him from under the tree.

“Well, come in if you want to, or else you’d better get going,” Sakusa said, pulling the door-flap undone and holding it open. Atsumu trotted inside happily, shaking himself gently in the doorway as he now knew Sakusa’s preference for tidiness in his home. Komori had already slunk inside with the first few drops of rain and was hogging the cool kitchen tile. Sakusa rolled his eyes. “Normally I’d suggest the kitchen tile since it’s coolest, but I suppose you can bunk with me in the back unless you want to fight Komori for it,” he said, gesturing at the corner where his pile of blankets lay as he pulled open the root cellar door to get them some cool water and maybe another bit of food before bed. A deep grumble from the disgruntled, slightly dampened cat punctuated his offer.

“Thanks, Omi-omi,” Atsumu said, sitting primly by the low table where he knew Sakusa would take his evening meal. When Sakusa popped his head back out of the cellar, Atsumu’s front paws were on the wall as he stood staring up at the bow and quiver that hung above him once more. Sakusa watched Atsumu for a moment, unnoticed, and considered for what must be the thousandth time changing him back into a human. More and more, his heart told him to do it, but the motivations for why Sakusa _didn’t_ had altered drastically. Sakusa knew that once Atsumu and the rest of the crew of foxes were men again, Atsumu would want to leave his island. The thought of returning to his daily island walks without Atsumu made Sakusa’ heart clenched tightly, and he sighed as he climbed the cellar ladder into the room.

“I can take it down for you to look again, but I’m afraid it’ll just make you sad,” Sakusa said as he closed the cellar door, not looking in Atsumu’s direction as he heard the startled yelp and small thud of two paws returning to the floor. Atsumu was quiet for a moment while Sakusa poured them water.

“Are ya a good shot, Omi?” he asked, eyes brightening. Sakusa placed Atsumu’s food on the floor and sat at the low table, settling his robes under him.

“I’ve had almost a thousand years to practice my aim,” he said wryly. “And I don’t let my prey escape.” This last was said pointedly but Sakusa had long since forgiven the missed shot at the deer that had started this whole situation, and he was sure the goddess of the hunt Artemis had not even noticed the admittedly-slight transgression.

“The shot was good, but I still had my sea legs and I lost my balance! Besides, it’s not like turnin’ me into a fox helped me finish the job,” Atsumu protested, but he had long since forgiven the spell that had followed. Or at least, Sakusa sincerely hoped he had forgiven it. It certainly felt that way when, a short while later, Sakusa climbed into bed and Atsumu crawled in beside him and curled up tightly by his side. The rain had cooled the air enough that they were able to sleep soon enough, despite Sakusa’s swirling thoughts.

*

Atsumu awoke to find himself tucked under Sakusa’s arm with another hand buried in the shock of fur at the back of his head, and he smiled. His eyes closed, he heard Komori rouse from the kitchen tile and slip out the flap, bounding away for a morning hunt. The cool air that came in from the door wafted over Atsumu and he inhaled; it smelled fresh and clean after last night’s shower. Sakusa woke and climbed out of the bed to the wash-basin, pulling his robe about himself as Atsumu yawned and stretched happily. He immediately began to chatter at Sakusa as he followed him around while he went through his morning routine and tended his animals, keeping a relative distance out of respect for Sakusa’s chickens without ceasing his chatter. After breakfasting together under the shady tree he ran off to his encampment, leaving at the quick pace of his feet pounding out the rhythm in his heart, o _mi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> snuggles 🥺  
> -Yeah I made liberos mountain lions, if u would like to criticize me feel free but I have Yaku-lion and Komori-lion on my side  
> -Artemis, goddess of the hunt, was not known for being super forgiving towards men who messed up on the hunt lol RIP to Actaeon but Atsumu's different 😤


	8. The Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa has a dream-vision. What will happen when he wakes?

It became semi-regular for Atsumu to stay over, although Sakusa didn’t always sleep and sometimes stayed awake all night, reading or writing or doing any number of the myriad small tasks that filled his life as the golden fox curled up cozily in his bed to sleep. Sakusa often stared at his small form as he slept, finally quiet and peaceful but no less Atsumu, watching as his breath made the soft golden tufts of his fur rise and fall gently. Komori was by nature nocturnal and only adopted some of Sakusa’s schedule for convenience’s sake, so he was often outside at night unless it was exceptionally hot or there was a threat of rain, but at these times he claimed the kitchen tile and rumbled possessively if Atsumu came near. Some mornings Sakusa awoke sandwiched between two animals who seemed to be competing for who got the lion’s share of Sakusa’s bed.

One night in late summer as the chorus of evening cicadas filled the clear air, Sakusa fell asleep with Atsumu curled snugly into his side and slipped into a vivid dream. In the dream he saw Atsumu, or at least, the archer that Atsumu had been when they first met. But instead of the dark glower and the knocked arrow that had pointed directly to his heart, this Atsumu was smiling the way his golden fox Atsumu smiled. The breeze off the sea stirred his golden hair and he closed his eyes.

 _Ya smell like mint leaves, didja know, Omi-omi?_ the dream Atsumu said, smile fading as he inhaled deeply.

“No, I didn’t know,” Sakusa mumbled softly. Dream Atsumu opened his eyes and turned to look at him, and his eyes were just like the golden fox Atsumu’s eyes. They looked at him warmly and Sakusa felt his heart swelling with joy. He reached out his hand and the dream Atsumu took it.

Sakusa awoke regretfully, holding on to the dream as he lay still. He felt the golden fox Atsumu’s warmth and smiled, remembering simultaneously both _his_ Atsumu and the dream vision he’d had. In their sleep, Atsumu had flung himself partly over Sakusa’s chest and he blinked blearily down at the golden crown and the pointy ears he’d come to love. He moved to stroke the fur behind Atsumu’s ears and sank his hand pleasantly into the soft golden tufts there, and immediately became aware of a difference. The ears felt the same, and the golden fur felt the same, but the body of the fox felt a lot heavier. Almost as heavy as if he was… _Oh no,_ Sakusa thought, sliding gently into a more upright position as he looked down at Atsumu. Sure enough, Atsumu had changed in his sleep back into a man, with his fox ears still perkily standing up from the side of his human head. Sakusa gasped and Atsumu stirred, at which point Atsumu’s fox tail flicked from under the covers, protruding from the small of his back over his completely naked human buttocks.

Now blushing profusely, Sakusa fully extricated himself from under Atsumu who mumbled in disappointment at being roused so brusquely.

“Atsumu.” A groan. Sakusa shook his shoulder. “Atsumu, I really think you ought to wake up,” Sakusa said urgently.

“Omi-omi, I was havin’ a wonderful dream. I woke up and I was human again!” Atsumu said as he woke up and stretched, smiling happily at Sakusa. Sakusa just pursed his lips and watched as Atsumu’s fully human body stretched and uncoiled, the covers blessedly gathering about his hips as his golden ears sat jauntily, mockingly, on either side of his head.

“A dream, huh?” Sakusa said when Atsumu still didn’t notice his transformation. _Gods, he truly is beautiful,_ Sakusa thought as he looked over the dream Atsumu’s—wait, the _real_ Atsumu’s body. _I wonder if my dream…_ Sakusa started to think before Atsumu looked down, surprised, at his hands.

“Hands?” he said incredulously. Then he looked down and saw the rest of his body. “I’m human!” he exclaimed, then looked up at Sakusa. His dumbstruck face quickly gave way to a grin and he leapt up, the covers tumbling away as he ran fully naked to the bow and arrow on the wall and went to spring out the door.

“Not so fast,” Sakusa said, having rushed to block his exit. He was very pointedly not looking down as he gripped Atsumu by the wrist. Atsumu pouted at him, then looked at the bow and arrow. “We are getting you some clothes first,” Sakusa continued with a blush, breaking eye contact and looking anywhere but at Atsumu. Atsumu seemed to finally realized his own nakedness and quickly agreed to Sakusa’s request, blushing himself as he waited quietly for Sakusa to find him something.

A few embarrassing moments later, Sakusa handed the bow and arrow once again into Atsumu’s hands. He was now wrapped in one of Sakusa’s spare robes of golden silk and he grinned appreciatively, previous embarrassment all but forgotten as he admired the well-made and well-maintained bow. Sakusa was not used to other humans in close proximity even though he had been sharing his bed with the golden fox Atsumu, so he stepped back from were the human Atsumu stood and led the way out the door flap, tying it open.

“Ya got any targets?” Atsumu asked, nocking an arrow and squinting into the distance.

“Don’t you want to ask about, you know,” Sakusa gestured, embarrasedly. “Being human again?” he finished lamely. Atsumu inhaled deeply and pulled up the bow, preparing to draw.

“Figured ye’d tell me eventually, and I wanna try yer bow,” Atsumu said nonchalantly, then drew. He let fly the arrow and it embedded itself into the trunk of a tree on the other side of the clearing. Sakusa watched thoughtfully as Atsumu’s expression brightened and he pulled another arrow from the quiver. “Thing is, Omi-omi,” he continued as he nocked the other arrow and prepared to draw. “I kinda trust ya.” The second arrow was loosed with a twang and hit the same trunk with a thud, although less close to the centre of the trunk. Sakusa’s heart fluttered at those words, and he watched as Atsumu pouted at the less accurate shot before he turned to glance at Sakusa.

“I have a theory,” Sakusa began, and Atsumu pulled out another arrow. Atsumu looked like he was about to interject but then thought better of it, so Sakusa continued as Atsumu stared at the distant trunk. “I don’t know a lot about how my powers work.” Atsumu looked like he was bursting to ask questions, but restrained himself once again. “That’s a secret, by the way,” he continued in what he hoped was a stern tone. The last thing he needed was for word to get out that the only thing protecting him and his island was a good deal less powerful than previously thought. He half imagined that the reason he lived so peacefully was because the reason of his banishment—the rumour that he’d poisoned the nymph Scylla and turned her into a horrible monster that haunted the sea crags near his island—made gods and mortals alike fear the power of his magic and potions. Atsumu nodded in acknowledgement before he drew again. The twang of the third arrow brought yet another smile to his face.

Sakusa gathered his courage and began his explanation in earnest. “I… I had a dream. In it, I saw you. _Human_ you. At first, I thought you were a stranger, but then you looked at me with the same eyes you had as my golden fox, and then I wished… I wished you were human again. I think I changed you in my sleep.” Atsumu looked at him with his head tilted, trying to understand. The effect was comical with the fox ears still poking up from the sides of his head. “I think that’s why you still have… you know,” Sakusa continued, miming pointed ears on his own head and gesturing at Atsumu’s. Atsumu reached a hand up and felt the fuzzy fox ears, then looked down at his shadow where the profile of the fox ears was clearly visible.

“Huh… I didn’t even notice,” he said.

Sakusa cleared his throat. “And the… tail.” Atsumu put a hand on his backside and felt the tail tucked under the robe. His shocked face lasted only a minute before he burst out laughing. It seemed nothing could kill Atsumu’s mood this morning. Sakusa wished he could feel the same joy. But the more he looked at Atsumu as a man, the more he realized he couldn’t keep him here forever. He dreaded the moment Atsumu would say he was returning to his crew as his newly-transformed human self, and he could hardly keep the rest of them as foxes once Atsumu was changed back. With a sigh, he told Atsumu to stay still as he sent his magic into him to complete the transformation he’d begun in his sleep, getting rid of Atsumu’s fox ears and tail.

“There,” he said, sounding more tired than the magic had made him.

“Thanks, Omi-omi!” Atsumu said brightly, running a hand through his hair appreciatively. “All back to my handsome self!” Sakusa only nodded with a slightly exasperated look, leaning his back onto the big tree. He almost didn’t notice the change in demeanor from Atsumu’s brassy confidence to a slightly more reserved and nervous look.

“Omi… there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to do, as soon as ya transformed me back,” he began shyly, looking away from Sakusa’s eyes. Sakusa supposed this was it; Atsumu would ask to have his crew transformed and then they’d all sail away, well before the winter winds turned the seas unfavourable.

“What is it, Atsumu,” Sakusa asked flatly, staring resignedly at his face. Atsumu was gripping the bow tightly now, but he seemed to gather his courage and take a few steps closer.

“If it’s alright with ya, I’d…” he faltered, pausing in his advance. “Can I… can I give ya a hug, Omi?” he finally managed. Sakusa was grateful Atsumu wasn’t looking at him as his face must have cycled through shock, embarrassment, joy, and amusement at an alarming rate. He schooled his expression then pulled himself off the tree trunk, extending his arms in a gesture of acceptance.

“Of course, Atsumu,” he said in what he hoped was a neutral enough voice, though it was tinged with the warmth he felt. Atsumu looked up at him and grinned then closed the final distance between them with long strides, sweeping him into a tight embrace. Sakusa reveled at the feel of it, the strength of his arms and the vital warmth of his body, so much warmer than the small golden fox had been as they lay side by side at night. Sakusa was still taller by a few centimetres and Atsumu tucked his face into Sakusa’s neck. He brought his own arms around Atsumu and squeezed, hoping Atsumu could feel his own vital life force rejoicing at the touch. Sakusa wasn’t sure if this was the first time he’d been hugged, but regardless he couldn’t remember any other embrace being as important as this one.

“Thought maybe ya wouldn’t want a hug from a mere mortal,” Atsumu mumbled into his neck. Sakusa couldn’t be certain whether Atsumu punctuated the end of his sentence with a kiss into his neck, but he brought a hand tenderly to the back of Atsumu’s head where he’d previously been used to scratching the golden fox’s ruff. Atsumu hummed and brought his own hand to the nape of Sakusa’s neck, toying with the curls without touching the magical laurel crown that symbolized his divinity. “Ya smell like mint leaves, didja know, Omi-omi?”

Sakusa smiled softly over Atsumu’s shoulder as he heard the echo of his dream repeated by the living. “You told me in my dream,” was all he could manage as he held the man he loved tightly. He smelled like earth, but he felt like the sky. Sakusa knew he didn’t belong on the sea, but that was Atsumu’s decision to make. “Whatever your wish is, if it’s in my power, I’ll grant it,” he felt himself saying before he could stop himself. Atsumu tensed in his arms.

“Anythin’?” he asked. Sakusa swallowed.

“Yes.”

Sakusa wasn’t sure how long they stood embracing. He didn’t want to let go, and hear the words of freedom and sailing and _goodbye_ tumble from Atsumu’s lips. Instead, he held him and inhaled gently, trying to immortalize the scent. Eventually Atsumu pulled away enough to look at him, and Sakusa registered the surprise and concern on his face when he saw the tears on Sakusa’s cheeks. Atsumu brought a palm up to his face and gently thumbed the tears away, appearing thoughtful. Sakusa just watched him and let fresh tears fall silently. Slowly, Atsumu brought his face closer again, though he didn’t tuck it into Sakusa’s neck this time.

“Anythin’?” Atsumu whispered again, his lips centimetres from Sakusa’s. Instead of answering, Sakusa closed the distance between them and kissed him emphatically, returning his hand to that irresistible part of Atsumu’s golden hair as he pulled his body back towards him. Atsumu’s small noise of surprise so resembled the startled yelp of a fox that Sakusa almost laughed, but the ardent return of his kiss staid his humour as he lost himself in Atsumu’s embrace.

*

A few days later, Atsumu trotted purposefully towards the beach. To keep their secret, Atsumu had asked Sakusa to transform him back into a fox when he returned to his crew. They’d spent a few days in what was now a heady haze of dappled sunlight, gentle laughter, and kisses that went from tender to heated and back again as minutes blended into hours. Atsumu’s head still swirled with the wonder of it all, and he skipped in his tread at the thought of returning to Sakusa to experience it all again.

But as Atsumu approached the beach, he saw Suna at the lookout on the promontory catch sight of him and call down to Aran. Sudden nerves set in and he sped up as Suna turned and ran towards him.

“It’s Kita,” Suna said quickly as a breathless Atsumu skidded to a stop in beside him. “He hasn’t left the rock on the beach in days.” Atsumu looked across the sand to see the small form of the silver fox lying down on the rock, facing seawards. “Aran’s been feeding him, but… it’s his heart, not his body, that ails him.” At that, Atsumu resumed his fast pace down to the camp where Aran waited for him.

“’Tsumu,” he said, the relief palpable in his voice. “Hopefully ye’ll be able to cheer him a bit.” Atsumu cursed under his breath at his own selfishness at having stayed away from the crew for so long when Kita was like this. He immediately trotted over to the forlorn silver pile of fur and nuzzled into it.

“Atsumu?” came Kita’s small voice.

“’M here, Kita, ‘m here,” he curled into Kita’s side. Kita lifted his head and nuzzled him gently.

“Ya smell like mint leaves, Atsumu,” he mumbled into him. “Kinda like that demigod Sakusa.” Atsumu tensed slightly.

“I can explain, Kita—”

“There’s no need to explain. I’ve seen the way ya look at him. I’m glad for ya,” Kita cut him off, leaning his head on Atsumu’s paws. “I love ya, Atsumu, but not in the way ye’ve loved me all these years. I’m happy ye’ve found someone, even as I wish every day to leave this cursed island.” Guilt roiled through Atsumu as he considered how his own happiness and his own desire to stay on the island forever had eclipsed his crew and his captain’s needs, even as he knew that Kita suffered. Kita, who had been the first to love him and trust him. Kita, his constant companion of over ten years through battle and hardship; through their long days on the ship; through the longer nights entwined together.

“I’ll do it!” he said abruptly, standing up. Kita whined at being jostled off his paws and looked up at him.

“Do what?”

“I’ll ask him to change us back! Yer right, Kita, it’s time we left this island,” he said, forcing false cheer into his voice.

“Atsumu, don’t ya think that yer love—”

“That doesn’t matter, our home awaits us,” Atsumu declared, beginning to walk away. Kita knew him too well, and if he stayed Kita would pick him apart and lay his feelings bare. If he was going to sacrifice whatever it was he had with Sakusa and ask him to change the crew back so Inarizaki could sail away, he would have to do it before Kita tore down his walls and unleashed the full force of his grief at the thought of leaving the man he’d fallen in love with behind, probably forever. A heart continually broken in small fractures by its everyday unrequitedness was one thing, but a heart shattered by requited love torn apart entirely was another. Atsumu raced up the beach, tearing past the rest of the crew who looked at him questioningly. He always thought better when he was moving, and the clearness of his purpose rose in his mind as he ran. The beating of his paws to the rhythm of his heart that beat _omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi-omi_ undercut the image which he now held at the forefront of his mind; the image of Kita’s smiling face, some ten years ago now, on his farm with his wife and newborn baby.

When he returned to the clearing, all he could see were the cushions and low table Sakusa had left under the tree and Komori flopping lazily down on his perch. He turned and tried to catch the scent of mint that followed Sakusa wherever he went, racing after him in the direction of the riverbank. Sakusa gave a tiny smile when he caught sight of him, seemed to be expecting him though they’d said goodbye for the day not an hour before. He spread his arms and Atsumu jumped into them, licking his face affectionately.

“Ugh, that’s gross, Atsumu. You’re a wild animal, I don’t know where that tongue has been,” Sakusa complained, though he still had his soft smile on. For a moment Atsumu forgot his urgency and huddled into Sakusa. He felt blooming warmth in his sides where Sakusa’s fingers pressed into his pelt and all of a sudden he was a man again, hugging Sakusa around his shoulders. “You need to start wearing undergarments as a fox though,” he grumbled, swiftly exposing his own chest as he removed the top part of his robe and covered Atsumu’s waist with a loosely-tied drape of fabric.

“And miss a chance ta make ya blush? Nah,” Atsumu teased. Sakusa was indeed blushing, and Atsumu licked his now-human lips appreciatively at the way it bloomed down his neck to his bared chest, spreading amongst the moles dotted there. He started kissing along that flushed collarbone but Sakusa interrupted him, pushing him away gently.

“Atsumu. You have something to ask me, or you wouldn’t have come back so quickly,” he said seriously, taking his hand and continuing to walk.

“Oh… yeah,” Atsumu immediately deflated but fell into step beside him, squeezing his hand tightly.

“I knew this would happen. Once I transformed you. I knew it would be time for you to go,” Sakusa said softly, staring over the trees at the ocean. “Forgive me that I held off for so long.”

“Omi…”

“I don’t regret it. This” he said, pulling their clasped hands up between them. Sakusa was letting tears fall silently from his slate eyes again, and Atsumu pulled him to a stop. “Just give me one thing, Atsumu, and I’ll let you all leave freely as the men you once were. Give me one more night together.” Atsumu nodded and pulled him into an embrace. “Even if I live to be a million years old. Even if a thousand ships land here and I transform them into ten thousand foxes. It’ll always be you, Atsumu.” Atsumu gripped him all the tighter, feeling his own tears begin to fall.

“I love ya, Omi,” Atsumu said simply, crying into his neck.

“And I you,” Sakusa replied, voice cracking slightly as he tangled his fingers in Atsumu’s hair in that perfect way he had that made Atsumu love him all the more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sorry that this chapter absolutely destroyed you >:]  
> -If you're wondering, yes I based Atsumu sort of on Achilles, golden boy and best of the Greeks 😌  
> -Shoutout to Backspin ily I hope you have _pleasant dreams._  
>  -Some accounts in mythology claim that Circe poisoned the nymph Scylla, transforming her into the many-headed man-eating monster who lives in a cliff across from the whirlpool Charybdis (the combination of which make sailing away from Circe's island very dangerous for Odysseus' crew). Some accounts in mythology attribute Scylla's monstrosity to something else entirely. Author-san decided that this made for a tasty rumour that would merit banishment in the eyes of the more powerful gods, regardless of whether the demigod was actually capable of transforming other gods with potions.


	9. The Farewell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakusa transforms the crew and they prepare to set sail. Sakusa and Atsumu say their goodbyes.

That night Sakusa lay awake with Atsumu on his chest, finally fallen asleep after they’d lain together talking in hushed tones for a long while after blowing out the last candle. Sakusa kissed his forehead gently and wove a spell of deep sleep on him then slid out from under him, arranging the furs of his bedclothes around his form carefully before leaving to wind his feet towards the beach encampment.

He beset the rest of the crew with the spell of deep sleep before coming down the slope to where they lay, all huddled together. Drawing the dearth of his divine power about him, he transformed them all back into men. Seeing their naked forms he swiftly found their pile of belongings which they’d dragged to safety after their transformation and used magic to pull out their tunics of wool and wrap each of them in the warm clothes before gently depositing their clothed and sleeping forms. Lastly, he found Atsumu’s tunic and his quiver of arrows and turned to leave with them, placing one of the arrows every ten paces pointing the way to his abode.

 _Come for him at dawn,_ he spoke into the minds of the men as they slept, hoping they would understand.

Back at his dwelling, he placed Atsumu’s folded tunic and empty quiver by the window and collapsed beside Atsumu’s peacefully-sleeping form, drawing him close.

*

Dawn came quietly, and Atsumu awoke to a tousled head of curls with tight black horns face down beside him. He smiled and caressed the nape of his neck gently and settled in to enjoy the warmth of it until Sakusa awoke. A noise in the clearing made him slide quietly out and his eyes caught sight of his familiar tunic and quiver folded neatly in front of the window. Tearing his eyes away from the well-worn leather and wool, he peered out under the window flap and saw Aran’s massive form, human again, silhouetted against the morning light. Understanding dawned on him and he looked back at Sakusa’s sleeping form as he pulled the tunic briskly over his head and ran out into the clearing to greet his friend and comrade.

“Aran, strength of Inarizaki!” he embraced him joyfully. “Yer huge as ever,” he mused, laughing into the part of Aran’s chest that was eye-level for him.

“Ya don’t look too bad yerself, Atsumu of the swift arrows,” Aran laughed. “C’mon, come see Kita. He’s overjoyed. The augur’s divinin’ when we should sail as we speak,” he continued. He picked up the bundle of arrows he’d collected on his walk to the abode and passed them to Atsumu, who accepted them as old friends.

“I’ll join yas in a few, I have to…” Atsumu trailed off thoughtfully, looking back to the abode. “We’re…”

“Kita explained it to me. It’s alright ‘Tsumu,” Aran smiled. “Just come when yer ready, we won’t leave without ya, even if Osamu wants to,” he chuckled. Atsumu gave him another hug and waved him off, returning to Sakusa’s dwelling. Sakusa was standing groggily at the wash-basin, still in his undergarments. Atsumu pulled him into a hug from behind and he hummed quietly, splashing himself with the cold water.

“Thank ya, Omi,” he said and kissed the middle of Sakusa’s back. Sakusa mumbled into his cupped hands, still washing his face.

They were both quieter than usual as Sakusa ran through his morning tasks. Atsumu tried not to think of this as their last morning as he prepared their breakfast and Sakusa tended the animals, placing a hot mug of tea into Sakusa’s hands as he sat at the low table with a huff.

“That was a lotta spells, Omi, take it easy,” he said fondly, kissing Sakusa’s pinched brows. Sakusa just nodded then plunked his forehead onto Atsumu’s chest where he leaned over him. Their morning tasks and their breakfast behind them, there was nothing to do but start silently on their way down to the encampment on the beach, hand in hand.

When they reached the beach, the crew had the ship dragged across the beach in preparation to embark and they were loading up the last of the crates and barrels of supplies. Kita, his beloved captain, was standing at the rock staring out to sea, but with a look of hope that Atsumu hadn’t seen since they landed here. Maybe even since before that, as their journey had wandered long after the battle with Karasuno. His heart was filled with fondness for the familiar shape of Kita’s shoulders as he stood looking proudly forward.

“Kita!” he called, running to him and embracing him. “Kita,” quieter now, into the side of his head where his silver hair tufted over the black hairs beneath. He felt the first tears fall.

“Yer stayin’, aren’t ya,” Kita whispered. Atsumu drew back, surprised, and looked at Kita’s face. The look of hope was replaced with concern and love, but accompanied by the beginning of his own tears. Atsumu wiped at the trails of moisture on Kita’s face absently, confused.

“Wha? Kita, I can’t stay, what about ya and the crew—”

“Do ya believe in fate, Atsumu?” Kita interrupted with a stereotypically-cryptic question.

“I… The future is uncertain and unknowable to mere mortals, Kita, I—”

“Atsumu, listen ta me. I’ve never understood why ya ran into battle every day with that battle cry on yer lips, ‘ _Who Needs Memories,’_ but now I see it. I dream of the past, of the life I lived before the war. Ye’ve always had yer eyes on what’s in front of ya. What is yer choice now that ya can grasp the past, or reach for the future?” Atsumu stared, dumbstruck, as Kita laid bare his life’s choices in that uncanny way of his. Rapidly, the entirety of his life before the war flashed through his mind, from his infancy in the courtyards of the Inarizaki compound to his youth in the alleyways of the city chasing after Aran with his brother, to brimming with pride as a young man who had gained the approval of Kita’s discerning eyes when he selected his crew from the hundreds of men from the surrounding countryside. It still swelled his heart with fondness, but at the same time his memories were all tinged with that faded yellow light of the past. Memories eventually all became just stories he told, rather than the life he had lived, and gradually the stories became separate from who he was in a way. Everything in his 16 years of life at Inarizaki became preamble to the greatest war of his generation—Atsumu’s first brush with fate—and the war itself became a blur that ended in heartbreak and defeat. He was almost 27 now, with no land and hearth or wife and children to miss him, and no claim to glory from the war. Despite the mix of joy and sadness, victory and defeat, friendship and rivalry that made up his life and the lives of countless others, what was there for him to cling onto in the past? The bittersweetness of life itself left an ashen taste in his mouth as he considered returning to his home and attempting to dredge up the existence that was already fading behind him. Then he turned to look across the beach to where Sakusa stood, with his wonderful but lonely island home behind him. He thought of the golden days that seemed outside of time itself, and the peaceful nights spent in each others’ embrace. Sakusa, feeling his gaze, turned to look at him, and Atsumu let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding when his own eyes met those deep slate ones. When he turned back to look at the man in front of him, Kita could tell what he’d decided. He smiled and nodded through his tears at Atsumu.

“Sakusa!” Kita called across the beach to the demigod, who came slowly across the sand to them. “Sakusa, I offer ya my humblest thanks and apologies fer trouble caused. I would ask ya one last favour before we go, though, gods willing.”

Sakusa bowed his head. “Anything that is within my power to grant, be it so,” he acquiesced formally.

“Promise me ye’ll take good care of Atsumu, because I love him and I want him to be happy, even if I may never see him again,” Kita said solemnly. Sakusa lifted his head in surprise and turned to Atsumu.

“You’ll stay?” he asked, shocked.

“Ya want me to?” Atsumu answered, equally as dumbstruck.

Sakusa seemed at a loss for words, but only gave a small nod.

“Atsumu, ye’ve been one of my closest companions for years. And I’ve never seen ya so happy with someone else. I appreciate what ye’ve done to make the crew—and especially me—happy, but I would be grateful if ya thought of yer own happiness fer once and stayed here with Sakusa.” Tears were streaming down his face as he finished. “But I’ll miss ya so much.”

Atsumu sobbed openly as he pulled the body of the man he’d loved for almost half his life into a crushing embrace. “Kita,” was all he could manage. Finally he pulled away, and Kita swept Sakusa into an equally emotional embrace.

“I promise I’ll take care of him,” Sakusa said quietly. Kita nodded, staring at Atsumu with his teary eyes over Sakusa’s shoulder. Soon there wasn’t a dry eye on the beach as Atsumu hugged each of his companions lengthily. Even Osamu seemed unwilling to let go.

“Ye’ll visit, if ye can?” Atsumu asked, voice cracking.

“Yeah, I’ll visit, dumbass,” Osamu replied, trying not to show his tears as he gripped Atsumu tightly.

“We’re Inarizaki men, we can brave these seas again,” Aran said, sniffling into Atsumu’s golden hair.

Suna dropped a bundle of Atsumu's weapons, armour, and clothing unceremoniously on the beach at his feet with a clang, but even he wiped his eyes as Atsumu gave him a hug.

“We’ll come again next summer, and we’ll bring Inarizaki’s finest rice and wine,” Kita promised, and kissed Atsumu’s forehead.

“A moment, please,” Sakusa said as they moved towards the ship. He conjured a bird, a crow with feathers so black they seemed to take on an iridescent blue sheen. “Take this bird with you. It will remember the way. When you get home, put it in a pool of still water. It will disappear and leave in its place a single feather. When you wish to travel here, drop the feather off the bow of your ship and the bird will reappear to guide you here. Without the crow to guide you, it will be difficult to find my island again, as I hide it from the eyes of passing ships as best I can.” Kita held out a hand to let the blue-black crow step on and lifted it up to his shoulder where it perched. Sakusa conjured a second crow, but this one shone iridescent orange. “Take this bird too. It will remember the way. It will never tire, and you can use it to send messages here.” Kita accepted the second bird and let it perch on his other shoulder.

“Thank ya, Sakusa, and gods be with you,” Kita said, bowing his head. The rest of the crew followed suit. Then they climbed onto their ship and Atsumu and Sakusa helped Aran give the ship its final push off the sand before Aran sprang up the rope ladder, waving through his tears before climbing onto the deck. The oars moved labouriously as the men tried to move the ship out of the shallows. Sakusa stood at the edge of the water and blew, creating a small billow of wind that rippled across the waves and filled the proud black sail of the ship, now emblazoned thanks to Akagi’s quick hands with a running fox. He heard the whispers of the sea nymphs, and he bade them carry the ship safely. Whether or not they listened, Sakusa didn’t know, but they soon left the shore on which he stood.

Sakusa and Atsumu sat on the rock on the beach, staring out to sea as the ship retreated from sight on the bright horizon of the early autumn morning. Atsumu put his head on Sakusa’s shoulder, and Sakusa was sure Atsumu let a few more tears fall as he wrapped a comforting arm around him. Around midday, when the ship was far beyond their view, they wound their way slowly back to the abode that was now home to two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _-Author-san's quiet sobbing_  
>  -Aran, if you're wondering, is based off of Ajax the Greater ("Telemonian Aias or Ajax") who was the biggest and strongest man amongst the Greeks. He was described as fearless but also with a very high level of combat intelligence and defensive prowess in the Odyssey. ARAN H8ERS GTFO HE IS GOOD BOY  
> -also of note is that it was standard in Greek myth, specifically Homeric myths, to include epithets after heroes' names.  
> 
>
>> -For example, Ajax would be referred to as "Telemonian Ajax, bulwark of the Greeks" or "Ajax the Greater" or some variation on this (Telemon being Ajax's father), and Achilles was often referred to as "Achilles Pelides, best of the Greeks" or "swift-footed Achilles" ("Pelides" from Peleus being Achilles' father). This is why I had Atsumu and Aran greet each other with epithets here!
> 
>   
> -so anyways _who needs memories_ hey? 


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following autumn, on the island.

The orange-black crow landed with a whoosh on their windowsill, startling them awake before the sun was more than a blush of pink at the horizon.

“Message for you,” Sakusa grumbled, pulling a pillow over top of his horns and divine crown of laurels as he rolled off of Atsumu’s chest. Atsumu groaned and rose, greeting the hopping, bright-eyed crow with a mixture of pleasure and annoyance.

“Ya couldn’t have waited until a more reasonable hour, Shoyo?” he said, ruffling the tufty feathers on top of the crow’s head as he picked up the large vellum the bird had dropped on the sill. The crow dodged under his hand and hopped off to the cellar door where he knew an award of dried meat awaited him, cawing loudly.

“Can’t you give him the meat first so he’ll stop making noise?” Sakusa mumbled into the pillow. Atsumu just gave Shoyo a low whistle and he flapped happily onto Atsumu’s shoulder as he opened the vellum.

“Don’tcha wanna know what they said?” Atsumu asked cheekily, scratching Shoyo under his chin.

“Not before tea,” came the small response from the back corner of the room. Atsumu chuckled and began reading the message Kita had written him.

 _We made the trip home safely again after this summer’s visit, thanks again to Sakusa’s crow Tobio…_ it began. But as he read the message and made various noises of surprise and amusement at its contents, Sakusa flopped over onto his back.

“Fine, you can tell me the news,” he sighed, trying to hide his curiosity in an exasperated tone. Atsumu wasted no time in explaining Kita’s account of his eldest son who had learned to ride a horse better than any of the other children his age, and his newborn who he’d named after Atsumu and who loved the mobile of foxes and crows that Kita’s wife had made to hang above her crib. He laughed as he read Kita’s account of Osamu’s scrape with a neighbouring lord as he’d been caught stealing plums from their orchards. Aran had won most of the contests in their autumn’s olympics, as usual, although Atsumu was interested to hear that a man named Iizuna had won the archery contest.

“I know Iizuna. He’s the son of my father Helios by another sea nymph,” Sakusa said. “I didn’t know he lived among mortals now.”

“I betcha I coulda won,” Atsumu exclaimed, confident despite Iizuna being a demigod, and rushed to the wall where both their weapon sets now hung side-by-side to lift his bow and quiver down. Shoyo squawked indignantly at his snack having been forgotten, and Sakusa groaned again.

“We are _not_ doing target practice before breakfast,” he said as he dragged a hand across his face.

“Oh c’mon, Omi-omi, we’re done with the harvest aren’t we? What more do we gotta do?” Sakusa looked between Atsumu’s and Shoyo’s bright, expectant faces and finally relented, rolling himself out of bed. Atsumu cheered and ran outside with his bow, Hinata swooping and cawing the least morning-like fashion. Sakusa put the kettle on the stove and went to the root cellar, pulling out meats for all three of them before climbing back up to pour their tea. Peeking out the window at Atsumu, Sakusa _tsk_ ed to see he’d run out in only the undergarments he slept in, despite the cool autumn dew. He placed their breakfast down under the big tree and wrapped Atsumu from behind in a warm wool cloak.

“You’ll catch cold,” he said disapprovingly, depositing a delicate kiss to the back of Atsumu’s neck. Atsumu hummed and shrugged into the cloak gratefully, turning to give Sakusa a proper kiss before turning back to his target. Sakusa went to tend to the animals and by the time he was back Atsumu and Shoyo were waiting for him at their breakfast with Komori, who had returned in perfect time to beg for scraps of meat by lolling in Atsumu’s lap, which Atsumu was much too eager to indulge in Sakusa’s opinion. Atsumu had grabbed a piece of vellum from inside and was preparing to write a reply to Inarizaki.

“It’s tradition among my people to foster yer young folks at another lord’s house for a few years. Maybe Kita’ll let little Atsumu foster with us when she comes of age,” he said brightly, and Sakusa nearly spat out his first sip of the blessed morning tea he had been so eagerly looking forward to.

“You want a _child_ , Atsumu?” Sakusa sputtered, face heating up.

“We’ve got like, 13 years to prepare? Unless ya want me ta ask after Kita’s eldest son. He should be ready to foster in the spring. So forward, Omi!”

“Maybe a neighbouring lord will foster _you,_ ” Sakusa mumbled into his mug, determined to enjoy his tea. But admittedly, the sound of he and Atsumu looking after a miniature version of Kita on their island wasn’t unbearable, upon further reflection. In fact, a warm feeling coiled its way through his chest at the thought. “Ask about little Atsumu,” he said quietly, watching as Atsumu’s face lit up and he glanced up from his letter to Sakusa. “And ask about the elder son as well.”

He hid his pleased smile in his mug as Atsumu laughed and fell back onto the grass joyfully, saying “I love ya, Omi,” to the morning sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Thank you so much for reading 💜💜💜  
> -sorry it got kinda emotional/corny, Greek AU always gets me feeling some kind of way lol  
> -Find me [on twitter here](https://twitter.com/mogimeadow) :]  
> -I know I said _don't come after me classical studies nerds_ but. pleASE come after me classical studies nerds I want to scream about Greek stuff with you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> -first off, if you read this, thanks for giving it a chance, I figured it would be pretty niche  
> -I absolutely loved Madeline Millers' [Circe](http://madelinemiller.com/circe/) and I also absolutely love my sexy idiots Atsumu and Kiyoomi so here I am making galaxy brain connections  
> -I also absolutely loved [one life, one encounter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23466772) by bastigod and wanted to write the _feel_ of that beautiful world into a different AU. I'm not sure I kept the same vibe but I'm okay with that :) please read their fic it is so so so lovely


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